too young to be so unhappy

aquiver | 02 (m)

aquiver (adj.) [uh-kwiv-er] in a state of trepidation or vibrant agitation; trembling; quivering

pairing: min yoongi x reader
genre/warnings: mature themes, talk of masturbation, smut, language, fluff
words: 11,520
summary: Yoongi can’t remember the last time he was able to successfully bring himself to the point of orgasm, then Namjoon gives him a business card advertising ‘Healing Hands’, and that’s where he meets you; pretty and innocent looking, who gets paid to provide hand jobs for a living…
note. inspired by the novella ‘The Grownup’ by Gillian Flynn, literally just the main character’s past occupation haha

» playlist | 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 |

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((I don’t know if this has been done, so if it has please tell me.))

So I’ve seen a lot of those ‘Humans are Space Orcs’ posts and I think those are really cool, but unnoticed they all consist of one thing: humans traveling with the aliens.

So there are a lot of ways you can do that, right? You could go all Star Trek and make it to where the humans and aliens all live together in harmony and travel space together and things like that. But I have a different idea and I think it’s pretty cool.

So humans don’t really know aliens exist. Obviously you have your conspiracy theorists and loons and the occasional 'abducted’ person, but for the most part it’s just generally accepted that aliens are fun and all, but they’re not /real/.

And then there’s this kid. He/she/they don’t really have a happy life, but they can’t really do anything about it. You can make them whatever you want, have any or of disorder or disability or just make them an angsty teen that comes from an unhappy home. They want to leave, but they’re too young, so they have to stay.

Then of course, the aliens come. But instead of crap like Independence Day (I say crap in a loving way, the movie was pretty good and I like it), the aliens just take one look at the kid, pick them up, and leave. That’s it. Nothing else. Just take the kid and go.

Of course the kid is terrified at first, but after like the first day or so they calm down because the aliens are treating them like gosh-darn royalty. They put the kid up in the nicest room on the ship, give them the best food they can muster from their rations, and provide for any kind of entertainment the kid might want. It’s like paradise, and the kid is happier than they’ve been in a while.

So the kid travels with these aliens on all sorts of cool adventures and throughout this period is when we get the 'Humans are Space Orcs’ discoveries. Like the kid will go up to random giant furry beasts and just glomp them and coo at them while the aliens are like “No that’s deadly it will kill you oh my god what is this kid doing?!?!” Or, if the kid has a uterus, come time for their period the aliens freak out because “Oh holy shmarda, the child is bleeding!! Why is the child bleeding?!” Hilarious antics and shenanigans ensue and the child is so happy with their new life that they never want to go back home.

Also included: drama when the aliens return to earth to find a human companion for the child (even though they didn’t ask for one you guys don’t have to do this really it’s fine) and the parents of the kid demand they be returned immediately. The kid doesn’t want to go back of course so the aliens have to fight for custody over the kid in court (I guess idk but something along those lines. Maybe the humans try to kill the aliens because the kid was “abducted” and that causes a lot of angst and problems.).

Idk just something that’s been floating about in my imagination for a while. I think it would be a really cool show though tbh like someone hire me.

Ok but rock climber Pidge tho

I can’t believe I haven’t thought of this yet?? It’s perfect and also works so well with her weapon

  • Sam started taking her when she was young cause he and Colleen felt she needed something physical to do with herself, something that would take her away from her computers for at least a little while
  • They tried all sorts of things in the beginning; soccer, swimming, gymnastics, ballet, figure skating, hockey, anything they could think of, but she was always unhappy, always dragging her feet to classes, always inventing excuses to get out of going
  • ((See the problem is Katie is too bullheaded to take well to structured lessons where she has to listen to a teacher and too independent to really thrive in team sports))
  • But the nice thing about climbing is when you start young you don’t even need to attend classes. So long as your parent/guardian/person accompanying you knows what they’re doing it can just be like “ok you’re tied in now go, climb”
  • It’s perfect for Katie
  • She gets to be independent, gets to do her own thing and find her own hand- and foot-holds, puzzling out the route up the rock face like she’d puzzle out one of her computer problems
  • Plus it’s an activity she gets to do with her family (because of course they all go; Matt won’t let his baby sister beat him at anything)
  • They start off mostly outside on real rock faces cause the gyms all have these stupid rules where children under 10 are required to take lessons and that would defeat the whole purpose
  • Katie grumbles and bitches and moans about being outside but once she gets to the crag she settles; she truly genuinely enjoys climbing, it’s the perfect sport for her. It’s good enough that she’ll forget to be annoyed that she’s outside
  • Sam lets her do this thing when she’s climbed well where as he’s lowering her back down he’ll just stop and hold her about 7 feet off the ground and she’ll bounce side to side on the rock face doing what she calls “the spiderman”
  • She has the perfect body type for a climber tbh–she’s small, which gives her a high weight-to-muscle ratio, which means climbing comes naturally to her
  • She’s also maybe just a bit of an adrenaline junkie (I think all climbers are to a certain extent). There’s nothing quite like the rush of reaching the top of a route, the satisfaction of making it, sitting in your harness and looking down at all the empty space below you, or looking out over miles and miles of land, that initial lurch where you go from holding onto the rock to sitting back in your harness to be lowered, that split-second of gut reaction “oh no I’m gonna fall” before your weight is fully supported by the rope
  • lmao I’m just rambling at this point but this idea came to me when I was–you guessed it–out climbing with my dad. And I had to take a moment because it’s literally perfect for Pidge
  • Also like, Pidge all decked out in climbing gear is my #aesthetic ok
1. I should’ve bought more flowers for you, now I buy flowers even if today isn’t Valentine’s Day or a day with a specific meaning, in a way, every petal is imbued with an apology and every time someone leans in to smell it they can feel the parts of me that you’ve forgiven far long before I could

2. I didn’t start to feel better until I started to take better care of myself, a constant whisper of you saying “i was just worried about you”

3. You can’t let someone be your only source of happiness because once they’re gone, you’re all alone again and there’s nothing worse than starting all the way back over with yourself: square one of a broken heart multiplied by the intensity of she’s not coming back, let her go

4. Music will never betray me

5. Poetry is thinking that you’ve got it figured out and a metaphor is just your way of saying I don’t

6. Art rules the world and I am a masterpiece in progress; how can I love myself like how you did if I can’t see that little bit?

7. Lust isn’t conducive for growth, it’s like an addict trying to get his fix– some day, he’s going to break and not even the drug can help him

8. I buy myself nice things, but I can’t fill this emptiness inside of my heart– I guess some nights, I just miss being next to you

9. I still can’t get used to sleeping alone

10. Sometimes I wish I would’ve picked up your phone calls during the first few months, I broke my promise and you know something? I regret it

11. I threw away our love letters and memories two months ago, I cried the whole time– yeah, still a fool for you, but baby, we’ve changed so much, I’m happy with my unhappy

12. You once told me to go on many adventures without you, did you account for my depression? You know, I don’t blame you for any of this. In reality it was always an us thing, a too young thing, a stupid, mad love thing– as always, I still love you, I just don’t know what love is anymore

13. They were right, soulmates touch you and they change you forever– the moment a colorful paint filled brush hits the water and the figments of colors flow into the cup, you left my soul with so many seasons, I’m still raking up the leaves from last fall

14. The last time I saw you we shouldn’t have had sex, I think that night really broke you– I think that night really broke me too

15. I should’ve laid my head onto your chest and counted your heartbeats more often, I’m sorry

16. Sometimes when I talk to people and tell them random facts that you’ve filled my head up, I swear I can hear your voice echo in the back of my head– “baby, check this out, you’re gonna love it”

17. I always do

18. I still remember your favorite Harry Potter line

19. After all of this time? …Always.

20. I smoke cigarettes to think about how to think less, the fucking irony

21. I take painkillers and my excuse is that my right hand still hurts, in truth, I’m just another addict that believes if I take another maybe my heart might just start to sound like it belongs to me

22. I didn’t cut myself because I wanted to die, I cut myself open because I wanted to feel how often I made your heart break, each scar on my shoulders is a time when I’ve made you cry

23. And each night that I can’t sleep, I stay up wishing that you’re doing okay

24. I don’t pray often, but when I do, I always prayed for your mom, although she hated me, I’m so glad that she put you on this earth to allow us to meet– I have changed so much since I’ve met you

25. The crazy part? You still change me everyday

26. You know the renaissance era? Falling in love with you was like that

27. My favorite photo of us were those two kids eating a banana split at the New Orleans mall, I miss those two innocent kids, oh, how we’ve changed

28. We are destined to have this eternal flame kind of distance– the brighter I burn, the more you’ll read, the only thing that keeps me writing some days is knowing that somewhere, somehow you’re always reading, no matter who you’re with or if you’re laughing or crying or smiling

29. My number one fan was always you first

30. I’ve made so many bad decisions, you were never one of them

31. I’ve written so many bad poems, you were in every single one

32. I’ve written some pretty great ones too tho…!
You were also in those

33. I miss cleaning your eyes for you

34. I have met some amazing people because of what happened to us

35. I can’t get you by Fallbrooke the acoustic version is no longer on the internet, the funny part? The very last day that it was on the web, I downloaded it right before they removed it. It’s still my favorite song of all time, our song

36. Hold your tears by Clazziquai too

37. Sometimes when I get off from work, I sit in the car and cry, some tears don’t have meaning, they just need to come out

38. I claim to write poetry, but I feel like they’re just love letters sent to no one in particular

39. It’s not that I’m not over you, I’m just trying to get used to not needed you

40. It’s not that it hurts to the point where I can’t breathe, I’m just trying to light my own path to self-love and healing

41. The fact that your favorite color is orange, it makes the fruit taste some type of way

42. Sometimes I want to call you, but I don’t

42. Sometimes I want to text you and I do

43. Sometimes I want you to answer, I’m glad you don’t

43. Sometimes I just want to say fuck it all and call, I’m glad that I don’t

44. You stopped writing when we first met, in some way, the girl that waits by the shore has left a million pens near my desk and to this day– I wait by the shore too, just in case inspiration hits, right?

45. Our little codes of love finally decoded enough for me to not be blinded by you

46. We were both messed up people, I think we knew that about each other and maybe that’s why I always know when you’re not feeling okay

47. I still don’t have love figured out, but damn I’ll open every fucking door in my heart even if I have to go down the sewer to find every key

48. Someone says that she’s falling for me, I’m legit afraid to hurt people now– like it’s a real fear, I don’t want to hurt anyone anymore

49. I should’ve given you the stars, but instead I left your heart scattered across the universe

50. It’s been almost two year and I’m still writing about you, but at least it’s less often, right?

51. You’ve always been kinda self-centered, I think you enjoy it when I write about you. Like if I write about you in some way, maybe I’m still yours

52. We were just too damn young to realize how destructive passion, love, romance, stagnation, betrayal and pain is when mixed together

53. Sometimes I go to the places that we used to go just to create new memories without you

54. Sometimes it works

55. Most of the time, it just flicks me off

56. My brain is constantly telling me that I’m a fuck up and the more I try to get it right, the more I keep getting it wrong

57. I am trying to master the art of letting go

58. And this list is a step towards better things

59. And this life is going to be alright

60. Without you, I am still me

61. Without you, I can still breathe

62. Without you, I am still alive

63. Without you, I am still poetry

64. I can barely remember your face, I guess being around a lot of different people at work helps out plenty

65. This world is filled with pain, I hope you look back and smile about us some day

66. Maybe when you’re old and grey– you’ll remember those two young kids who slow danced in the dark

67. If we were made from the same star, I want to return home some day

68. I want to shine bright enough for the two of us

69. You’re still my best friend even if we no longer talk

70. You’ll always be my best friend

71. I still care about you

72. A whole fucking lot

73. The world is full of mysteries, I’m glad that we’re in the known, I’m glad that we’ve met

74. I hope you never regret me, you wanna know why? I could never, ever, ever, ever regret you

75. I don’t know how to open up to people anymore and I’m not sure if it’s my fault or yours– maybe this one time, it’s our fault… are you like this too?

76. I’ve been told that I’m too hard on myself, I firmly believe that one of the reason as to why we split was because I wasn’t hard enough on myself– I got too fucking comfortable with your promises and I took you for granted

77. Life waits for no one

78. I let an ex of mine break my red and black ring– she said that if I was over you, I’d let her break. I let her break it, but jokes on me, it didn’t change a thing about how I still feel about you

79. I keep writing and writing and writing because one of these days– it’ll stop being about you

80. Sometimes it works, but deep down, I know in some way, you’ll always find a way to sneak back out

81. I can’t get you out of my head sometimes

82. It’s even harder because you’re still inside of my heart

83. I saw this cool picture on Tumblr with someone cutting a piece of herself off that resembled two lovers splitting up, that shit looked like it hurt

84. Love hurts because even eating cotton candy ice cream really fast will give you a brain freeze

85. You didn’t like my rat tail idea, I grew one out just to fuck with you. Jokes on me, I love it now.

86. You never really supported the idea of me being anything, tbh, it’s not your fault. None of it is. I should’ve been my own motivation. I guess by supporting you through nursing school, I wanted to hear you say that I could do it even when I was at my lowest point.

87. I realized a few thing about loving you.

88. When you hit rock bottom, few will be loyal enough to stick it out with you

89. Money rules the world, since I’m not wealthy in any way– one day when I am, I can laugh a little about all of this

90. I think you loved our memories more than you loved me, in truth, I did too

91. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to get close to people

92. Maybe that’s why it’s hard to let you go

93. Maybe that’s why you still read

94. We had something raw and experimental, young and dumb, mistakes on top of mistakes

95. It was a perfect compass to point us to our future selves

96. I know a great many things now– although I am depressed, with or without you

97. I am great, I am strong

98. I am my own happy before anyone else’s

99. I can love myself enough to let you go

100. I had to hurt you to really, really grow–
I think to this day, that’s the thing that hurts me the most. That I had to hurt my best friend in this whole wide world, to make you crumble, to make you cry, to make you hate me– I had to do all of that in order to love myself. And it’s sad because here I am, still trying to figure it all out.

With or without you, I will be a better person.
—  100 things I figured out when we broke up

Queen Ikona of Hoshido.

This oft forgotten first queen became royalty when a young, brash Sumeragi pursued her beauty despite her sickly being. Her significantly lower social standing caused her to change herself into what she thought was fitting of a queen. She became a mechanist to create Karakuri puppets to entertain guests, as she was too scared and physically weak to attend many occasions. Her anxiety caused her to be easily jealous of other women, out of fear of losing her husband and family. Her marriage was an unhappy one, so much so that her quiet passing after her sickness caught up with her became the dawn of queen Mikoto’s era of ruling.

If you don’t find ANY FUN at all in being a Louie/Larrie then just….don’t? Do something else? Find a new hobby? Why do you persist on doing something you clearly don’t enjoy?

the-han-governness  asked:

What would love be like with each character? Please include my dearest trio and if you can... Rika. I want to know what love with each character feels like on a Sunday morning and after a fight, you know these characters so well I hope it made sense! (do I have to be anon?)

This is my longest headcanon ever (4k words) so it’s going under the cut.  I added everyone so hopefully it lives up to your expectations, but heavy spoilers! And no, you don’t have to be anon!

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Allen Ginsberg reads his poem America

by Allen Ginsberg (1926-1997)

America I’ve given you all and now I’m nothing.
America two dollars and twenty-seven cents January 17, 1956.
I can’t stand my own mind.
America when will we end the human war?
Go fuck yourself with your atom bomb.
I don’t feel good don’t bother me.
I won’t write my poem till I’m in my right mind.
When will you be angelic?
When will you take off your clothes?
When will you look at yourself through the grave?
When will you be worthy of your million Christs?
America why are your libraries full of tears?
America when will you send your eggs to India?
I’m sick of your insane demands.
When will you re-invent the heart?
When will you manufacture land?
When will your cowboys read Spengler?
When will your dams release the floods of eastern tears?
When will your technicians get drunk and abolish money?
When will you institute religions of perception in your legislature?
When can I go into the supermarket and buy what I need with my good looks?
America after all it is you and I who are perfect not the next world.
Your machinery is too much for me.
You made me want to be a saint.
There must be some other way to settle this argument.
I don’t want to die young.
I want to die old and unhappy.
I don’t mind dying so long as it’s not sordid.
Now Burroughs is in Tangiers I don’t think he’ll come back it’s sinister.
Are you being sinister or is this some form of playing a practical joke?
I’m trying to come to the point.
I refuse to give up my obsession.
America stop pushing I know what I’m doing.
America the plum blossoms are falling.
America I haven’t read the newspapers for months, everyday somebody goes on trial for murder.
America I feel sentimental about the Wobblies.
America I used to be a communist when I was a kid and I’m not sorry.
I smoke marijuana every chance I get - only two dollars and twenty-seven cents.
I don’t want to work, maybe too good looking for the job.
I can’t study anymore. I’ll never teach for a living.
I sit in my house for days on end without going out.
When I go to Chinatown I get drunk and never get laid.
My mind is made up there’s going to be trouble.
You should have seen me reading Marx.
The American flag is absolutely meaningless to me still just as it was in the thirties.
I won’t say the Lord’s Prayer.
I have mystical visions and cosmic vibrations.
America I still haven’t told you what you did to Uncle Max after he came over from Russia.
I’m addressing you.
Are you going to let our emotional life be run by Time Magazine?
I’m obsessed by Time Magazine.
I read it every week.
Its cover stares at me every time I pass the corner of North West Street and Montgomery Street.
I read it in the basement of the Berkeley Public Library.
Time Magazine is always telling me about responsibility.
Businessmen are serious.
Movie producers are serious. Everybody’s serious but me.
It occurs to me that I am America.
I am talking to myself again.
Asia is rising against me.
I haven’t got a chinaman’s chance.
I’d better consider my national resources.
My national resources consist of two sticks of marijuana, millions of genitals, an atom bomb, twothousandfivehundred mental institutions.
I say nothing about my prisons nor the millions of underpriviliged who live in my flowerpots.
I have very few bordellos and that’s all there is.
I have abolished the whorehouses in France and Tangiers is the next to go.
My ambition is to be President despite the fact that I’m a Catholic.
America how can I write a holy litany in your silly mood?
I will continue like Henry Ford my strophes are as individual as his automobiles more so they’re all different sexes.
America I will sell you strophes at $2,500 apiece $500 down on your old strophe as trade in and the rest of your life to pay.
America free Tom Mooney.
America save the Spanish Loyalists.
America Sacco & Vanzetti must not die.
America I am the Scottsboro boys.
America when I was seven my mother took me to a Communist Cell meeting they sold us bubkes, a handful per ticket a ticket costs a nickel and the speeches were free everybody was angelic and sentimental about the workers it was all so sincere you have no idea what a good thing the party was in 1835 Scott Nearing was a grand old man a real mensch Mother Bloor made me cry I once saw Border plain.
Everybody must have been a spy.
America you don’re really want to go to war.
America it’s them bad Russians.
Them Russians them Russians and them Chinamen. And them Russians.
The Russia’s power mad. The Russia wants to eat us alive. She wants to take our cars from out our garages.
Her wants to take our factories.
Her wants to corrupt our college girls.
Her wants to put us all in slave labor camps.
Her wants to emaciate us like skeletons.
Her wants Malenko or Buganin or somebody to be our boss.
Her wants to dictify us.
Him big bureaucracy running our fillingstations.
That no good. Ugh. Him makes Indians learn read. Hah. Him need niggers. Huh. Her make us all work sixteen hours a day. Help.
America this is quite serious.
America this is the impression I get from reading the newspapers.
America is this correct?
I’d better get right down to the job.
It’s true I don’t want to join the Army or turn lathes in precision parts factories, I’m nearsighted and psychopathic anyway.
America I’m putting my queer shoulder to the wheel.

Promise of Sunshine

Jhope (Hoseok) x reader

Genre: angst

Originally posted by nnochu

[Not my gif]

Summary: You promised to get rid of anything that made your precious sunshine unhappy, and that eventually included you.

“ Yah Namjoon!  Stop breaking stuff!” You laughed at the miserable Namjoon with broken sunglasses. It didn’t take him long to join in your fit of laughter, laughing ‘till both sides hurt. It was the usual friday night with the guys. Each one of them had something entertaining going on, so you always got distracted.

You played truth or dare with the maknae line, having a blast while you did so. “ Truth or dare, Y/n?” Jungkook turned to look at you with a smug ass grin. “ Dare me, you little shit.” You glared right back at him. He feigned a mini heart attack of being offended before telling you the dare.

You giggled excessively before tackling Jin’s back. You got on with success and he gave you an unintentional piggyback ride. “ Am I so handsome that women are literally flocking towards me?” He questioned over his shoulder as you held on tight. After he entered his room, you leapt off and returned to the small circle of young ones.

“ Are you joining us jagi?” You turned to look at your boyfriend who was sitting on the couch with Yoongi. Usually he would be all over this game, but today he looked stressed. “ No, you go ahead.” He gave you a brief smile.

You shrugged it off and continued to play around with the rest of the boys. You had one dare to hug everyone, which you did with enthusiasm. When you got to your boyfriend, you were especially excited. He always gave you the best hugs, in your opinion, and you loved him.

However, he pushed you off. “ Jagi? Don’t you want a hug?” You looked at him with concern, and you showed a childish pout. You knew he could be moody sometimes, but you wondered what the problem was. “ Go hug someone else, seeing as you’re getting so close to them.” His smile today was completely replaced with a judgmental frown.

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The Joker x Reader - “Dirty Details”

Frost is finally going on vacation for 2 weeks with his wife and you agreed to take care of his two boys. Mister J was hard to convince, but you always have your way in the end. You can be very…persuasive.

Best friends saga:

You love Jonny’s sons, they are absolutely adorable: Kaden is 6 years old and Zane is 5. They will stay with you at your hideout in the woods because it will feel like a vacation for you also. The same can’t be said about the Joker; he was completely against you two babysitting for so long.

“Uncle J, can we watch a movie?” Kaden asks, slowly heading towards the bedroom where him and his brother will sleep.

“Don’t call me that, I’m not your uncle!” he bitterly replies, putting his guns away. He is extra grouchy because you told him to stash away everything a kid shouldn’t be around.

“Auntie Y/N, can we watch a movie, please?” Zane shyly tries his luck, knowing you probably won’t say no.

“She’s not your aunt,” J mumbles in the corner of the living room, locking away the guns and the knives in the seif.

“Yes, of course, you guys go to your room and put away your things, then come back,” you smile, ignoring the Joker’s shitty attitude.

“I’m going to go take a shower,” he scoffs as he closes the seif.

You choose not to answer, digging around for a movie in your collection.

After the shower, J comes back to the living room to find the boys cuddled to you, half asleep.

“Move, brats!” he demands, stretching his back.

The young one gets watery eyes, his lower lip quivering:

“Auntie Y/N is mine…” he manages to utter, clenching to your arm.

“You wish! Move!”

“J, seriously?!” you sigh, exasperated.

“You’re so mean Uncle J,” Kaden pouts, sniffling.

“I’m not your uncle!” J growls, narrowing his eyes.

Kaden starts crying:

“Uncle J is so mean all the timeeee…” The boys crawl in your lap, upset someone is trying to take you away from them. You try to comfort both, kissing their foreheads and squeezing them tight to your chest.

The Joker takes a deep breath and sits down by you, resting his head on your shoulder. You elbow him, irritated he made the kids cry.

“But you’re mine,” he whispers in your ear, frowning. “Tell them to move.”

“What are you, three years old?!” you mutter through your clenched teeth. “Stop your crap!”

** *After you avoided catastrophe and put Kaden and Zane to bed, you started fooling around with J because he wanted to apologize for being a jerk the best way he knows how. Not that you mind at all.

Suddenly, a knock on the door.

“Auntie Y/N,” Kaden calls out, “my little brother had a bad dream.”

You can hear Zane whimpering.

“Go back to bed, you’re fine!” J yells, pulling you back on top of him when you try to leave.

“Baby, he had a nightmare,” you try to reason with him while he continues to kiss you.

“Don’t care. They ARE the nightmare!”

“Come on, J, don’t be like that!” you sigh, fully aware he’s dead serious.

“But I’m already naked, we have to finish what we started!” he complains, slapping your thigh.

“Uncleee Jaayyy, I’m scared,” Zane bawls his eyes out outside the door now.

“Dammit!!!” the Joker closes his eyes, deliberating on what he should do while you take advantage of the situation and get off him, starting to put your nightgown on. “This is so not cool, doll ” he shakes his head and finally gets out of bed, grabbing his shorts and getting dressed, unamused at the ordeal he has to go through.

He goes and opens the door, Zane immediately rushing in to hug his legs, crying. J rolls his eyes, resigned. Kaden just stands there and you signal him to come in.

The Joker picks up the young boy and he wraps his arms around J’s neck, weeping on his shoulder.

“Stop crying, you pest, it’s fine.”    He’s a natural with kids.

Mister J turns around:

”Hey, what are you doing?” he grumbles seeing Kaden cuddled to your body.

“Come here, my little baby, did you have a bad dream?” you gesture for J to bring Zane over.

“Y-Y-yes,” he stammers, reaching his hands for you.

“Really, Princess? They’re not our children, they shouldn’t be in our bed,” he states the evident fact like it’s some kind of news flash.

“Give it a rest, will you? Let them be!”

He talks to himself in a low voice, saying not very nice things for sure, but gets in bed nevertheless.

“Scoot over, kid, I wanna sleep by my girl. Can I do that at least?” J sarcastically asks but of course Kaden doesn’t get the tone in his voice. He crosses over to the other side of your body, this way you two are in the middle like the Joker wanted.

“I hate kids,” he whispers in your ear.

“No you don’t, baby. We will have some too.” You keep on caressing Zane’s head, reaching over J’s chest.

“Oh, hell no, no way that’s gonna happen.”

“We are so having some, at least two.”

“Shut up and rinse your mouth with holy water, Kitten.”

You start laughing softly.

“I might be pregnant right now, you never know,” you wink, teasing him while the boys are quietly dosing off.

“Jesus, Pumpkin, don’t give me a heart attack, I’m too young,” he huffs, unhappy at your little joke.

*** “I’m going to marry Auntie Y/N!” Kaden decides after finishing breakfast.

“Sorry, brat, she’s already taken,” the Joker spoils the fun like he usually does.

“No, I’m gonna marry her!” Zane screams, ignoring J.

“No, I’m older, she’s mine!”

“No, Auntie Y/N is mine!”

They start fighting and you watch, entertained.

“Aww, how cute. Hey, boys,” you get in between them, ”you can both marry me, ok?”

“Really?” the young one looks full of hope.

“Definitely!” you reassure them as they hold your hands in theirs.

“That’s bullshit!” J puckers his lips, aggravated.    He’s so mature.

You glare his way, really wanting to kick him:

“Looks like I have three kids: a 39 year old, a 6 year old and a 5 year old. How did I manage that?!”

“Shut up, Princess.”

“Don’t tell my wife to shut up!” Kaden snaps, stepping in front of you. You lift your eyebrows, satisfied.

“Exactly, baby, be careful or my boys will tear you to pieces.”

“Yeah, right,” he taunts them, taking a sit on the couch.

“Kill the enemy, he’s being mean to our wife!!!!!” Kaden shouts, yanking Zane away and charging towards the Joker, jumping on him and yelling as loud as they can. And wow, the Joker cracks a smile while tickling them and trying to slam them on the couch. Holy shit on a stick, that’s absolutely insane.

*** J is walking around shirtless because he doesn’t really like to wear too much around the house.

The boys keep on staring at his tattoos, they sure look more interesting every time they see them.

“Uncle J, are you really God’s only child?” Kaden asks, curious the hear the answer.

You giggle, lifting your eyes from the book you’re reading. I guess J gave up on asking them not to call him uncle because they don’t care anyway.

“Hmmm, it’s quite possible, brat.”

“Wowww, did you ever see God?” Zane inquires, both of them with their mouth opened, anticipating his reply.

“A lot of times.”

The boys gasp.

“So many times, about 10 to 12 times a week with your Auntie Y/N,” he grins, watching your eyes getting as big as plates.

“ J, what the hell?! ” you throw your pen at him and he dodges it, so pleased of his clever answer.

“Wow, Auntie Y/N, you saw God too?!” the boys turn towards you, amazed.

“Oh, yes, she did, I always make sure of that,” the Joker laughs, talking for you and biting his lips while you squirm in your armchair.

“Zip it, J !!!” you throw your book at him and miss. He keeps on laughing.

“How does God look like, Auntie? Is he big?”

You give J an evil glance and then you have the perfect comeback:
“Average,” you smirk at your little revenge.

J’s smile freezes on his face.     Ha! Serves you right!

“I’ll show you average, you little smart ass!!!” the Joker heads towards you as you start running away with the boys chasing the two of you, screaming up a storm because they think you are playing around.

*** J took a shower and now he’s parading around the cabin with only a towel around his waist. You urged him to go put some clothes on because you have kids around and he had a temper tantrum so you decided to go and fix the problem.

“Here, boys, you can play video games on TV, OK? I have to go and talk to J and we’ll be back. Will you be good for me?”
“Yes, Auntie Y/N,” they both answer in the same time, pushing each other on the way to the couch, snickering.

You go in your master bedroom and you watch him for a few seconds as he slams stuff around, looking for something to wear, still mad. It makes you smile, he’s so dramatic sometimes. You lock the door, then sneak behind him and pull his towel away.

“I’m not in the mood for games,” he sulks, watching you throw the towel on the floor.

“I know why you’re grumpy, baby. You are sexually frustrated because we got interrupted last night.”
He squints his eyes, trying to say something but you don’t let him.

“I know exactly what you need, you have about 30 minutes before the boys get bored and come looking for us.”

You violently push him on the bed and his green hair gets all over his face.

“Jesus, woman, what the…” he lifts his head and watches you take your clothes off as fast as you can.

“Shut up! Like I said: about 30 minutes.”

“Wh-what am I supposed to do in only 30 minutes?!”

“Your best. Come on, let’s get it out of your system.”

“I’ll let you know, Kitten, this is not cool at all!… Ohhhh, come to Daddy,” he smirks when he sees you completely naked, forgetting his other speech.

“Try to be quiet,” you whisper, crawling on top of him and pressing your lips on his.

“I don’t wanna be quiet!” he gropes you, snarling.

“Jeez, stop being so feisty, you’re wasting time.”

*** You get your face out of the laptop, realizing it’s very quiet around the house. Where’s everybody? You walk around the cabin, then get outside. You circle around and finally see the Joker and the boys.

“See? You hold it like this and then you aim…”
“Baby, what are you doing?”

“I’m teaching them how to handle a gun,” he nonchalantly replies like it is the most normal thing in the world.

“Really?! Can you please put the gun away in the seif?! Seriously now!”

“But Uncle J is showing us his cool gun, we wanna see some moreeeee,” Kaden whines, causing Zane to do the same.

“Yes, we are doing some male bonding,” J yawns, kind of bored.

“Male bonding, male bonding!!!!!” the kids start jumping up and down, not understanding what he’s really referring to, but it sounds cool.

Maybe these brats have something going for themselves, the Joker thinks, watching you go back inside as you shake your head in disapproval.

*** Frost picked up his kids and now he’s driving back to Gotham, drinking his coffee and chatting with his wife while the boys are having fun in the back sit.

“Daddy, guess what?” Kaden gets his attention.

“What is it?”

“Did you know Uncle J saw God?”

Jonny smiles and the wife sighs.   Ahhhh, kids

“Did you know Auntie Y/N saw him too?”

“You don’t say, boys, that’s really something” he winks at the wife, sipping on the coffee.

“Yes, he said he sees God 10 to 12 times a week and he makes sure every time that Auntie sees him too.”
Frost spits out his coffee and slams the breaks in the middle of the road. He starts coughing, still chocking while laughing with all his heart.

“I’ll be damned, we need to catch up, darling,” he says turning towards his wife while she chuckles, entertained at the revelation. He wipes his mouth beginning to drive again. And then he decides:

“We need to let them babysit more often, this way we can find out all the dirty details.”

 Also read: MASTERLIST

I Trust You

[ Trigger Warning: Abuse ]

You smiled as the cool night breeze swept your hair back. “Faster Young Woo.”

“Hold on tight” he warned before speeding up to fulfill your request. You tightened your hold around his torso. Your chest was pressed against his back allowing him to feel the speed of your heartbeat. The adrenaline rush you got from riding fast at night was incredible. When arriving at your house you jumped off the bike first. A bright smile still on your face. “That was fun!” 

Thanks to Young Woo you had finally begun to feel like you were living life.

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Someone give me a plot where there’s this guy and he works on Wall Street and got married too young and is unhappy and is stuck in a rut with his life. He and his wife always get into fights because they’re starting to outgrow each other and instead of retreating to a bar, he finds himself in this diner late at night. Enter the girl, whose a waitress at said diner. She serves him the first night he comes in and then he just ends up sitting in the same booth and because it’s so late when he comes, there’s really no other customers so they get to talking and she’s this ball of light and they bond. And so, every time he gets into a fight with his wife, he goes to the diner to see her and she’s his escape and they’re starting to fall in love, but OH SHIT HIS WIFE STILL EXISTS.

anonymous asked:

On the subject of dying, do you think Mary is going to die by the end of this season?

Well - real life aside, it depends on Mary’s narrative arc, and the problem is, I’m not sure we even know what’s going on with that? At least, it’s not clear to me.

In the beginning, Mary used to be unsettled and how of place, so my gut reaction was, Okay, she’s getting the ‘wronged ghost’ arc - I assumed she didn’t want to stay on Earth, or that she wouldn’t be allowed to stay on Earth, but since there was still something tethering her here, she wasn’t ready to let go. As to what that something was - getting to know her kids, perhaps? Protecting them form the supernatural in the way she hadn’t managed to all those years ago? But then, the character evolved. Now she’s working with the BMoL, and she seems plenty okay with where she is and how she’s fitting in, so narratively things have gotten more complicated. Also, we already know she’d die for her kids, so that point, which would have been a classical end of season conclusion, is moot. 

(Although, interestingly enough, she would sacrifice her kids, and herself, for a chance of completing ‘the mission’, so that’s some food for thought.)

And, sure, one could argue that Mary’s purpose in joining the BMoL ties in with her ‘original’ narrative purpose, because it’s about ridding the world of monsters and therefore save her kids, but I think there’s more to it than that. What Ketch said about Dean? Well, he wasn’t wrong - he just wasn’t talking to the right Winchester. Because Dean is not like that -

The Men of Letters is an excellent fit for someone with our - inclinations. You’re a killer, Dean Winchester, and so am I. And if we go too long without something to track or trap or punch or gut, well, things get a bit ugly. Don’t they?

- but I’m starting to think Mary is. I’m sure we’ve all noticed how her hunting style has changed over the past few weeks. In the very beginning, she was set in her old ways and also oddly gentle, like her sons get when they realize monsters are not completely at fault (I’m thinking in particular about her relationship with that ghost kid). But now, all of that is gone. She dresses in tactical black, carries every gadget she can find, accepts leadership and orders instead of wandering off on her own, knows all the lingo and terminology she needs to communicate with her squad, and monsters - they’re just a pest, things to be killed. Bloodsuckers, she called those vampires they exterminated.  

(Cut to a young girl, desperate and terrified: “They’re all dead.”)

In assuming what is shaping up to be also Cas’ trope this season - the soldier who’s seen too much war and now can’t do without - Mary’s arc changes radically. As far as I know, that story has no happy ending. The thing mostly goes, Man oh man, it was so bad over there, I’m happy to be here (with you) again - and then what follows is, in the best case, nightmares and unhappiness and a sort of frenzied edginess; in the worst, a hasty return to the battlefield. That’s basically the plot of The Hurt Locker, of Sherlock (in a way), of the entire 24 franchise. And it’s so hard to find a happy ending because the challenge the character needs to overcome is inside their mind, not out, and is fed not only by their craving of combat (that ‘purity’ Dean also struggled with), but also what comes with it: the adrenaline rush, those ‘tighter than blood’ friendships, and the feeling of doing something right, useful, acutely needed. In fiction, this trope is often very similar to the struggle of the drug addict, of the alcoholic, because this is what it’s all about: an addiction.

So, look, I don’t know. Mary didn’t seem particularly taken with motherhood and a normal life the first time around, so I doubt she’ll do a Jody and try to start a family again. On the other hand, she can’t stay in the Bunker, because there’s no way the show will ever be about that, and we know it well by now. She could die, but it’d seem cheap, petty, almost, to bring her back in such a momentous way to kill her off after a handful of episodes. My guess is that the rest of this season will show Mary (and Sam) picked the wrong side, and it will all end in blood and heartache, and Mary will run away at the end, or disappear, so we can explore all sort of painful mirrors next season - stuff like, Should we go after her? and She doesn’t want us to find her and She killed Jody, man (just saying whatever here, hope it doesn’t come down to that) and, inevitably, But she’s mom. And, I don’t know - why did Sam and Dean try so hard to find John in S1 again? Because Sam wanted to get his hands on John’s new intel on Yellow Eyes so he could kill him, and Dean - Dean was motivated, as he always is, by a twin need to both look after his family and not be left alone. Like, Dean went to find Sam because he couldn’t deal with life on his own and also because he was downright worried about John, however little he said about that. Here was an unpredictable drunk, the only parent he’d ever known, going off after a demon on his own. That was a death sentence for sure. But now - if Mary were to disappear, that would really show how these characters have grown. Now, they understand how hollow revenge is; they both said as much in The Chitters. They also know hunting’s a job, not a mission, and that one day - hopefully - they’ll get out of it. They understand (sort of) that adults make their own decisions; that you’re not responsible for other people’s lives.

I hope this sort of makes sense? This is not (exactly) what I’d like for this story, but I’m just trying to be realistic. If Mary doesn’t die, which, as I said, doesn’t seem likely, then we’ll need a good reason for her to be absent most of next season, because that’s how Supernatural works, and I hope they’ll not have her just river gambling or whatever - I’m hoping for some solid explanation for her absence, and from the way things are shaping up, it looks like whatever it is, it’ll be very unpleasant.  


A/N:  To all of you, love yourself. You’re wonderful inside and out, despite your flaws. And even though here, it’s the boy who makes it clear, YOU don’t need anyone else to tell you that you’re loveable. That’s because you are and I love you very much!

This is the first thing for you @nellaey, another small imagine will follow whenever I have time.  I just wanted to say thank you for listenting to my bawling and my complaints, for taking the time to reply to my shitposting and just for reading my stuff and for all the support. I am so happy to have met you and I just want to tell you that I adore you so very much and that I am honored to have you as my friend. 

Pairing: Young James Potter x Reader

Summary: James Potter, as oblivious and dense as his son, notices that something isn’t quite right with you. And when Remus finally tells him, James decides to do something to clear out the insecurities.

Word Count: 1847

Warnings: it’s so fluffy, it’s disgusting

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Sam Winchester-Doll faces Part 4

Title: Doll faces Part 4

Pairings: Sam Winchester x child reader

Word count:1027

Request:Please do continue the doll face series! It’s so good, and beautiful, and lovely and I need more! Although, if you do not wish to, I understand. Happy writing!

Request:Can you continue doll face series with a part 4? It’s so good 💕

Request:More doll faces and wild

Links:Doll faces, Doll faces part 2Doll faces Part 3

You watched as the clock ticked away, seconds falling on your shoulder; seconds that could not be given back. Like a thief without a cause, just in it for the pleasure of watching their creation turn to chaos.

Everything was still and deadly silent. The only thing that could be heard was your breathing, the soft blow as your chest swallowed in on itself before puffing back out again.

You sat crossed legged on the floor, your eyes unmoving as you watched the clock. It wasn’t until the door creaked open that you were snapped out of your daze.

He came in like he was a young child entering a forbidden place and was scared of getting caught. His head was dipped low, body rigid yet ready to fight off any intruders if need be. He was an odd man. Always so gentle and kind yet his profession wasn’t the most caring one.

His smile was sweet, dripping with honey and his words flowed like he was always so sure of what he had to say. He was confident and empathetic. He was a little stubborn but he was patient.

The best? His eyes. Of course all this is in a platonic way but his eyes were always soft and welcoming, you knew the moment he looked at you that you could trust him with your deepest secret; you also knew that only a fool would do so.

As nice as he was, you couldn’t risk it.

You couldn’t let him in.

“Hey, bud’‘Sam smiled, entering the room and stepping over the invisible line his mind portrayed as forbidden land. ’'What you doing?’'He asked sweetly, his tone gentle but a trace of worry was detected.

You looked over at him, your eyes meeting his before falling back to the clock. Sam followed your gaze before looking at you with a concerned expression.

’'You’ve been in here a long time, why don’t you come out and get something to eat. Not much to do in here anyway,” Sam chuckled but there was no amusement behind his laugh.

He sighed, breath falling between his crackled lips as he came closer before kneeling down. “We’ll find your sister, I promise’'Sam nodded, his hand raising to show you he was about to comfort you. He was waiting for you to react, to give him the signal whether it was okay or not but you didn’t even spare him a glance.

Sam patted your shoulder gently before standing up. He grunted as he pushed his hands off his kneecaps, watching you for a while as the cogs in his head turned.

’'Okay, why don’t I bring your food in here’'Sam smiled, trying to make light of the situation. Always trying to find a positive.

It had been a few days and you had done nothing but sat inside and stared at the clock. It wasn’t so much about your sister and that made you feel bad.

You felt bad that you weren’t worried, that you didn’t seem to care. But for some reason all the emotion was draining out of you; you could feel it seeping out of your fingertips. You watched helplessly.

You were too young to understand what was happening, why you were feeling numb. You had always felt like you didn’t contain as much joy as kids should, you always felt sad and unhappy but now you didn’t even feel that, you just felt nothing.

It was like a giant black hole was now where your heart should have been. You wanted to cry, you tried and tried but nothing happened. You couldn’t. You didn’t want to eat, drink or even sleep.

Dean had been looking for Lily, he was close to finding her and Sam had helped of course but Sam was trying to help you as well. He was worried about you, they had both talked and Dean said it was Lily missing that did it but Sam had a better connection with you than Dean, Sam had tried talking to Dean but Dean strongly believed it was Lily’s disappearance.

Sometimes you would go into Sam’s room and he’d let you stay with him a night. He thought you were scared but it was so you could feel comfort again. You enjoyed being with Sam, his arms were big enough to fit around you and he was so warm and well…snug.

But now even that seemed not to matter.

The door opened again, a tray balancing in Sam’s hand as he entered. He put the tray beside you and turned around to collect the old one, sighing when he realised not a single speck had been touched.

”(Y/n), honey, please eat’'Sam whispered, sitting beside you. “You’re gonna hurt yourself if you don’t. It’s not good for you’'He muttered, his hand coming up to stroke back your messy, tangled locks.

’'It’s gone…”

It was silent but it was there. Sam jumped at the sound of your voice, he had never heard it before. He shook his head, getting over his shock as he cleared his thoughts.

“Sorry?’'He repeated, not being able to hear you the first time but he just knew you had talked.

’'It’s gone’'You repeated, your eyes wide open and staring into the void as he licked his lips. His fingertips trailed down to your forearm, rubbing soothing circles as he frowned.

His thick brows knitted together as he tried to think.

’'What’s gone, (Y/n)?’'He asked, his voice low so he wouldn’t over power yours. His eyes followed your exact movements, watching carefully as your hand trailed up your chest before hovering just underneath your collar bone.

’'My heart”

“Your heart?’'Sam whispered in confusion, his eyes falling over your hand before looking back up at you.

’'I can feel it but it’s not there…’'You whispered, your fingernails digging harshly into your chest. ’'I can feel it pulsing against my hand but…but I don’t understand-’'You whimpered.

’'Don’t understand what, (y/n)?’'Sam asked, shuffling closer as his face twisted with worry and concern, desperate to know what was troubling you.

’'How can I feel my heart beating when I feel like I’m dead?”

Sunday Symbolism: Unhappy Childhoods make Great Nurses

CtM is a drama series, so it is only natural that the main cast have some drama going on in their private lives, or have had some drama. That being said, however, I did notice that the amount of past family drama for our favourite nuns and nurses is really high. I thought I’d write a post about it, gathering all those origins. It seems that unhappy childhoods make for great nurses and doctors ;). Is this really symbolism? I don’t think so, but it is just something that struck me.

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Beauty and the Beast (AU)

Originally posted by gotham

So, as you may know, I was thinking about starting a Beauty and the Beast AU series with Negan. Well, I have decided that I am definitely doing this! I’ve spent the past couple of days thinking about the synopsis for the story and a name for my OFC and I am very happy to announce that I now have all of that sorted (thanks to the help of some wonderful ladies: @theoneandonlysaucymo , @thesisterabigail & @zoesmama2024 . You three are lifesavers). The synopsis, the OFC’s name, and tags are below. Let me know what you think!

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beyond I love you

Hi I’m a big fan of both TID and Mortal instruments series. There are two characters which are my favourite. Isabelle and Jem. Jem has been the character to get me through a time in my life when it wasn’t the easiest. He gave me hope. As for Isabelle she was the person I look up to be. The endings for these two characters for me felt heart breaking. I also was a little annoyed that everyone within Mortal instruments got a happy ending besides Isabelle. I was just wondering why these characters didn’t have a happy ending? These books are one of my must favourites to read if I have connections with each character. You are an amazing writer and I hope you continue in the future.… — jasington

So here’s the thing about having favorite characters that I have discovered due to being both a reader and then a writer: you always feel like your favorite character (or ship, but that’s another post) got done down, didn’t get written about as much as everyone else, didn’t get a happy ending, etc. I get written to constantly about how Jem got the happy ending and Will didn’t. Or how Gabriel didn’t get a happy enough ending, or Gideon, or Charlotte even, or Henry (who did get handed a crap sandwich at the end of Princess, though he leads a long and happy life after.)

It’s not that bad things have happened to them randomly, it is that they are your favorite and you want them to have All The Things. I get letters about how Jace and Clary didn’t get as happy an ending as Magnus and Alec because they are not as committed to their relationship being forever. I get messages about Magnus and Alec being done down because Alec, like every other person on the planet, will die someday. And messages about how Maia gets the fuzzy lollipop because her boyfriend didn’t just lose his memory, he died in front of her and her and Bat aren’t officially dating. Also, quite a volume about how Sebastian didn’t get a fair deal.

To me, Isabelle got what everyone got at the end of CoHF: she got a human ending. She lost Max, which was her biggest loss, and she experienced losing Simon, though by the end of CoHF is it clear he is back and they’re going to give it another try whether he remembers her or not. (And if you read Tales from Shadowhunter Academy, which I know you said you have not, you can read all about how that plays about and Isabelle and Simon’s happy ending.) But she also experienced victory, saving people and being saved, experienced being loved and loving, loss and losing, gaining friends and cementing family ties. Isabelle is a brave young woman, with great friends and a complicated but loving family; even if a piano had fallen on Simon, I would not consider her to have had an unhappy ending. If you feel differently, your feelings are totally valid, but it’s definitely worth asking yourself: Do I feel this way because this is actually an unhappy ending, or because I perceive other characters/ships as having gotten more? Maybe worth asking that about Jem, too, who I consider one of the happiest and luckiest characters I’ve ever written?

Hey Cassie! I loved Born to Endless Night so much I cannot even use words. Thank you and Sarah for such an amazing story- it is one of the best e-books ever! When Simon tells Izzy he loves her I squealed so much because oh my god! However I have noticed something about Izzy- she has never directly said it back! In CoHF she said that she has never told anyone she loves them (who is not in her family) and when Simon said he loved her but didn’t want her to say it back unless she meant it, she said- ‘I mean it’. And then in BtEN she said ‘I know’!!! Will Izzy ever just say it?! I doubt you will answer this but if you do it will mean the world to me. Thank you so much for the shadow world! (So hyped for LM, Angels Twice Descending and the TV show!) Thank you! — asgreenasfire

This might not seem like the same question as the above question, but to me they are actually related! Ok, here’s a thing: I am not actually a huge fan of the words “I love you.” Obviously I like them fine  in real life, or used casually in books, but as the apotheosis of a literary relationship, phrased that way, it does not work for me or interest me. And if I’m in a critique group, in someone else’s work, I’ll ding it with a comment: “Can’t you find another way to say this? Something that’s less generic and more about these people and this relationship?”

I do think of this as related to the above question, because sometimes this is less about the significance of the “I love you” and more about scorekeeping. There was a lot of arguing about whether and when Tessa said I love you to Jem and/or Will, and whether Jem had ever said it to Tessa and whether Will had, etc. I also got a lot of emails about Clary not saying it to Jace, and about Alec not saying it to Magnus, with neither the Clace people or the Malec people willing to acknowledge this might also be the case in other relationships in the books. :)  Here’s one about whether Jem ever said it to Tessa. (He did, just in Mandarin.) It happens with literally every ship, but every ship thinks it’s just them.

Going back to me not liking “I love you” — it isn’t because there’s anything wrong with the words, and my characters do say it all the time. It’s about the way they say it. Will saying “I am catastrophically in love with you” is to me enormously more interesting and more relevant to Will and Tessa than him saying “I love you, Tessa.” As is Jace saying, “I love you and I will love you until I die, and if there’s a life after that, I will love you then.” As is Alec saying to Magnus, “I would never want a less strange love.” (I have even seen the argument that Alec saying “I love you” to Magnus in BTEN does not “count” because it is in the middle of a sentence about his family, rather than a pronouncement he makes from the top of a tree or accompanied by Jace on the flute or whatever.)

As for Isabelle, when Simon says “I love you”, she says “I know” — which echoes him saying that that’s what he’s always wanted, back in City of Ashes. A girl who when he said “I love you,” said I know. It’s the best “I love you” she could give him, and much better than the three words “I love you” because it’s about Simon and Isabelle, it wouldn’t work for any other couple, but it works for them. As does Alec saying, Even if it were just days, I would want to spend them all with you to Magnus, because part of the core issue of their relationship has always been time, and the amount both of them have, and this is Alec saying: I don’t care about time, I only care about being with you. It’s about conquering that issue. Will saying he catastrophically loves Tessa is about him saying he understands that  it’s a terrible time, a terrible moment, but he loves her so much he can’t not say it. When Clary says "When I die and they burn my body and I become ashes that mix with the air, and part of the ground and the trees and the stars, everyone who breathes that air or sees the flowers that grow out of the ground or looks up at the stars will remember you and love you, because I love you that much” it’s her way of reassuring Jace, who has always believed love is destruction, that love is good things like the growing world and the natural beauty of the stars.

All these ways of saying I love you are about making the characters richer, deeper, more interesting and resonant. I have no recollection of anyone ever saying “I love you” to someone in a book, but I do remember Juliet saying and when he shall die, take him and cut him out in little stars, and he will make the face of heaven so fine, and Cathy saying, Whatever souls are made of, his and mine are the same, or Wentworth writing I am half agony, half hope, or Jack’s I wish I knew how to quit you.

Obviously one does not spend all one’s time beating oneself up because one is not Shakespeare, but I, and every writer I know, do try to make the pronouncements of love in our books as memorable and character-specific as possible. It took days of tearing up paper to get I am catastrophically in love with you, and years of waiting for the right moment for Isabelle to say I know to Simon. In fact, I know, obviously, is a Star Wars reference, and the rumor is that the original version was “I love you, too.” Harrison Ford ad-libbed it into “I know,” and changed a forgettable line into something we all remember and look to — I have friends who have “I know” carved on the inside of their wedding bands. To turn the forgettable “I love you” into something people will remember is what we as writers are constantly striving for.

pinku-bananacchi  asked:

I read one of your posts to request about Naruto and his baby for the first time or taking care of her/him! Hehe He is such a precious sunshine ball //ugly sobs// So is it possible if i request them now? :D

OK SIT DOWN BOYS AND GIRL BC THIS IS MY BABY’S BABY AND Y’ALL ARE GONNA WANNA BE SEATED FOR THIS CUTENESS. Also, I fully believe Naruto would have a daughter as his first child, Sorry Boruto. 

Originally posted by shiroiraiha

  • Naruto would literally give the entire world to his daughter; when it comes to her, the word ‘no’ does not exist whatsoever. She’s his little princess and he will do whatever he has to in order to make sure that she is safe and happy. In his eyes, this little baby girl is the most perfect thing that he has ever seen, and she always needs to be provided for. She becomes the reason that he wakes up everyday; she’s just absolutely everything to him.
  • He was so excited for a baby- absolutely ecstatic. Even if she wasn’t planned, I cannot see him being unhappy or angry. ‘Course he might be a bit nervous, but other than that’s he’s pretty pumped to have a mini him.
  • Definitely tried to use shadow clones to take care of his daughter, but it freaked his little one out, because she had no idea what was going on, because there was five of them all around her, and it was just too much for her to process at such a young age. So needless to say, he doesn’t use it anymore. Doesn’t matter really though, Naruto would rather be the sole one taking care of her. 
  • Omg, he absolutely died when he saw her first smile and her first laugh. He just melted, because she’s just so gosh darn cute, and she’s his, and lordy he was just a mess. Baby giggles could literally end Naruto Uzumaki.
  • After being resurrected, he again died when her first word was “Dada.” Naruto’s poor little heart goes into overload because of all these cute little things that his baby does. Someone please save him. 
  • Naruto is all for getting her messy with different sensory things. Like he doesn’t care if she gets paint all over her, or anything like that; it’s so easy for him to just bring her in the tub with him that it doesn’t matter if she’s covered head to toe in yellow paint and noodles. He wants her to experience fun things like that, and because of that, she’s a very sensory advanced child; always on of the first ones to try something new. Fearless little munchkin.
  • His daughter is such an attachment baby; it’s actually awful how attached she is to those around her, but Naruto absolutely loves it, honestly. He just likes knowing that even though she’s a baby; she cares about those around her, and it just makes him a proud daddy. Plus, he’s honestly not that surprised that she’s an attachment baby, because he gets pretty attached, so it just wasn’t a big shocker to him. 
    • But man, she’s especially bad with Naruto; such a daddy’s girl. For a good portion of her infancy, Naruto literally could not put her down, because she’d cry out until he picked her up again. He does not believe in letting them cry it out. Nope, not at all. Not Naruto Uzumaki. Over the months, he just became really, really, REALLY good at doing everything with one hand, because he had to hold her in the other. 
    • It definitely became better as she got closer to a year and became more mobile, though. She crawls through the house and follows Naruto wherever he goes, and if he’s sitting or lying down, you better believe that she’s going to crawl into his lap or cuddle next to him. She’s gets better the older she gets, but still she’s most definitely an attachment baby. Don’t dare try to take her away from Naruto, she will legitimately have a panic attack; she has some separation anxiety and just gets scared that she won’t get to be with her dad again. ‘Course Naruto would never allow that, but still, baby fears are very real.  
  • Bless his little heart, but he cannot stand seeing his little girl cry; rips him right in two. It’s one of the worst sounds in the entire world to him, and it’s not even that it annoys him, he just hates knowing that there’s something that’s causing his little girl to cry. 
  • Cosleeper, no doubt about that. 
  • You best believe her first real food was ramen; Naruto took her to Ichiraku’s and got her her first bowl, and it was so cute, because Teuchi got her a teeny tiny bowl and made sure that everything was bite size and not too hot and made it just like Naruto likes it, and bless his heart. 
  • Usually will ask Iruka to baby sit, because he trusts Iruka the most with his little one, because it was Iruka who took care of him, so he believes in Iruka more than anyone else.
    • He believes in Kakashi too, but he doesn’t want his baby around a dude who might forget to feed her bc he’s too busy reading icha icha. Getchu shit together Kakashi.
  • Naruto’s baby girl has such a strange relationship with Sasuke and it’s difficult to describe. Even Naruto kinda has a strange thing with Sasuke and his daughter, because his daughter is absolutely everything, and even though Sasuke is his best friend, he does not have a clean slate. Part of him wants Sasuke to be a part of her life, but he also doesn’t want his daughter to be around such a tainted person, and this caused Naruto to choose someone else as his daughter’s godfather; Sasuke just wasn’t the type of person he wanted his daughter to be cared for by if something ever happened to him. It’s just a bit weird for a while after she was born, because Sasuke isn’t baby-oriented at all, and Naruto’s completely absorbed in his daughter, and so they aren’t synced in that aspect. Of course, if Sasuke has to do something for her, he will, because she’s Naruto’s kid and he cares about her, because of that. It does get better as she gets older, but Sasuke’s still definitely that really distant uncle who will send her cards on her birthday with some little trinket from wherever he is and will show up if someone needs to be roughed up because they hurt her.
    • Surprisingly though, Baby Uzumaki doesn’t have any major issues with Sasuke holding her, which honestly surprised a lot of people, because she was such an attachment baby, and Sasuke’s not always there. She’ll spaz out if Lee tries to hold her, but she’s completely okay with Sasuke holding her. This probably happened, because she can tell that her dad and Sasuke are close, and so if her dad cares this much about him then he’s okay in her book. Though Sasuke’s not the best cuddler, so that’s a bummer for her. 
  • Naruto makes sure that she knows that he loves her more than anything else in the world, and that she’s worth so much. He knows what it’s like that feel like no one loves you and to feel like you don’t matter in the world, and he refuses for his little one go through that. He says he loves her multiple throughout the day and kisses the top of her head or check at least ten times a day. He just loves his daughter and wants her to know that. 
  • Ok so, hear me out on this one- so as a joke Naruto bought a Kakashi plushie, because let’s just pretend that Konoha makes plushies of their Hokages. Anyway, Naruto bought this as a joke and gave it his little girl, because he thought that Kakashi would get a kick outta it when he saw it, but by some work of irony, that Kakashi plushie became one of her attachment items and she carried it around like none other. It’s literally her only lovie and don’t dare take a lovie away from an attachment baby; you’re just asking for a fit by doing that. So now, Naruto’s little girl just constantly carries around a plushie Kakashi and when she was old enough to talk, she’d call it “Kashi-sensei,” and she lowkey has a crush on Kakashi, but only lowkey, and Naruto just refuses to believe that his 1 year old has a crush on anyone and Kakashi’s just like “you did this to yourself, Naruto…”
Creepypasta #281: The Last Train Home

Do you ever watch other people in the subway? It’s so strange to have to ignore someone who’s right up there in your face. A can of sardines springs to mind, except we’re not joined by a bond of thick oil or brine. Coated instead by a miasma of sweat, cologne and annoyance. Everybody absorbed in their own little worlds. There, whizzing through the bowels of the city at a brisk clip, you’ll find people reading books, newspapers. Maybe on a PlayStation Portable. Maybe on a smartphone. Except me. I’ll always be looking through the thick glass windows at the flickering blackness just beyond. There are stranger things in the tunnels than in the cabin. I guess this is the right place to share what I saw that night.

It had been one of those weeks. Actually, it had been one of those months, where the targets piled up like so much dirty laundry. The boss was on my case. Miserable, balding fart with his mortgage and his European sports car, riding us all for another bullshit project for some client across the country. The days and nights lost their meaning. In at work early to beat the crowd. Heading home without ever seeing the light of the sun. Caffeine was my only friend. I got used to rushing for the last train home because the miserable bastard wouldn’t even sign off on the late night taxi claims (it showed up on the work life balance indicators, he’d said).

It had been another mindless day of numbers, slides and text. To be frank, I didn’t even know if the version of the meaningless report I was working on was the fifth or the fiftieth, nor could I have told you the difference between the two. The office had already emptied out an hour before, my last co-workers giving me a commiserating pat on the back as they headed off. I cursed as I stuffed my laptop and swept some papers into my bag. I was going to miss the train. The stale warmth of the building gave way to the bitter cold as I hit the streets running.

The station was empty. Not unthinkable at this time of the night, but eerie all the same. There’s something about a hollow space meant for crowds. I’m not talking about muggers or anything like that. There is an air of the forbidden about these empty spaces. That’s how that night started out. Expectant. Waiting for something to happen.

Not that I cared at the time. The escalators were out for the night. I was wheezing hard by the time I got to the bottom, that old college fitness long buried under an ocean of booze and a mountain of fast food. I thought the last train had already left, resigning myself to a long wait for an expensive taxi ride back. I was about to leave when the train pulled up with the familiar scream of metal on metal. Graffiti adorned the grey skin of the train, tribal tattoos for the modern locomotive. The doors hissed, warm air belched from the cabin. I got in.

The train, strangely, was full. Not packed, but it was crowded. I found myself a seat in between a old man in a large brown overcoat and young lady that wearing a dark formal dress, a large flower pinned to her breast, her face a mask of mascara and eye shadow, inexpertly applied. Across from me sat a pair of army guys in fatigues, their scalps shining pink under their tight buzz cuts. And many more besides. It was a puzzling thing, to have a cabin so full late at night, and with such a motley crew of inhabitants.

With a shudder, the train pulled out from the station.

I settled back contentedly into my seat. The network connection in the tunnels was never dependable. I had to find another way to entertain myself on the ride home.

The noise from the screech of the rails and the rush of air outside seemed muted. Instead, the cabin was filled with a soft susurrus, the hushed tones of a crowd in a theatre, expectant but subdued. The cabin felt colder than it should have been. Was the heating out again? It couldn’t be. I was certain that the cabin was warmer than the platform a second ago, yet now, it felt like I was back outside in the howling cold. I tugged my jacket a little tighter. I looked at the hodge podge of strange individuals in the cabin. Everybody seemed out of place. Why would there be a gaggle of high school kids, obviously inebriated, this late at night? Or the waifish girl that was wearing what seemed to be a school uniform. I shifted uncomfortably on the sculpted plastic seat. The other odd thing was that I didn’t see a single mobile phone or any other electronic device in sight. I looked up at the row of LED lights that indicated the train’s progress along my route. 4 more stops.

I was still staring at the display when the train whizzed by the next stop. It didn’t stop. Didn’t even slow down. Just kept going right by the stop. The lights and pillars of the station streamed by in a blur. I jerked upright in my seat, my eyes widening. What kind of train had I gotten on? The rest of the crowd was unfazed by this development. If anything, the low buzz of whispers got even louder as the train progressed.

We were still hurtling through the dark tunnel, the overhead lights flickering on and off, when the little girl in the school uniform affixed me with a curious stare. She crept over to the group of high schoolers and tugged at the sleeve of one of the young men. He must have been a basketball player or something, he nearly had to bend double to bring his ear down to the little girls face. Her jaw worked up and down as she whispered something to him urgently. I heard nothing over the sound of the train. He blinked and took a step back when he looked back in my direction, as though seeing me for the first time. His handsome face twisted strangely. What was it? Anger? No, he looked like he wanted something. He looked hungry. His compatriots noticed the break in the conversation and directed their gazes to the focus of his attention. To me. The same gamut of emotions cycled through their faces. Shock. And then a sharpening, a hardening of their features. They were hungry too.

The feeling spread through the cabin, like a spark arcing from person to person. The two uniformed men, looking up and tightening their jaws. The old man next to me, perking up and scooting down another seat so that he could look at me without straining his neck. Outside, a blur of lights told me that another station had shot by. 3 more stops.

I shrank back in my seat. The tendons straining at the surface of my hands as I clutched at my bag protectively, as though that stupid gesture, grabbing on to my work, the focus of my life, would ground me and take me from this nightmare. It didn’t. I felt the weight of their eyes on me, like insects crawling over my skin. Something was wrong. So clearly wrong. This strange crowd, so different, yet each of them was wearing that naked need on their faces.

“Don’t mind them, they’re just jealous of you.” The voice of the young lady by my side. Her voice was soft, mellifluous. “Don’t stare back and don’t talk to them.”

I turned to look at my erstwhile companion. “What are they jealous of? I just wanted to catch the last train home.”

“It’s the last train home for all of us, too.” She smiled. She was very pale. Very beautiful. “But not all of them want to be here. And looking at you, going home tonight, makes them so very unhappy.”

“Where’d they all come from? Was there a convention? A meeting?” I cast my eyes around the cabin again, but was stopped halfway by her strong fingers on my chin. Her fingers were icy cold. She turned my head around to face her.

“Everywhere. All around. Most of them didn’t want to be here. Except me, maybe. I’d had enough of where I was. I miss my parents. I haven’t seen them in such a long time. It took awhile, for me to gather enough courage to go look for them.” She paused, suddenly pensive at what she’d said. “You’re not meant to be here, you know. This isn’t your ride.” Outside the window, another station went by. My eyes flicked back to the board with all the little lights. 2 stops to home.

The whispering in the cabin had started up again. Louder than before, but still muffled by the sounds of the rails and the rushing air outside. They were talking about me. The atmosphere grew oppressive. It was strange but the attention of the crowd felt like a rock on my chest. My breathing became laboured, each inhalation a struggle. My companion sensed my discomfort.

“I wish I could stop them,” she said, sadly. “It’ll stop when we get to the end of the line, I suppose.” Her eyes lit up at the thought. She turned around and scooted up onto the seat, her knees on the hard plastic, palms on the cold glass. Even with her face pressed up against the glass, there wasn’t a trace of fog on the window left by her breath. If she was even breathing at all. “Here, why don’t you take this, I won’t need it where I’m going.” She fumbled at her dress, detached the white flower and pressed it into my hands. The sweet smell of the lily took my attention away from the pain in my chest.

“We’re here!” She was quivering with excitement as the train began to slow. I looked up at the board overhead. All the lights on the map had gone out. Where were we?

She cupped my chin in her hands. It was only then, with her arms so close to my face, that I saw the network of fine white lines that criss crossed her forearms. She caught the flick of my eyes towards her arms. She shrugged, sheepish. “Practice makes perfect,” she said. She frowned, suddenly serious again. “This stop is for the rest of us. You can’t join us. You have to stay here.” She leaned forward quickly and gave me a kiss on my cheek. Her cold lips burned like an ice cube.

The people in the cabin quickly turned their attention to the approaching platform. I felt the weight on my chest ease. The whispering grew to a crescendo as they pointed and chattered excitedly. The platform drew close. And what a sight it was. I didn’t recognize the tiles or the posters. I must have taken this train a thousand times. I could have closed my eyes and named every station in order and the time between stations if I wanted to, and yet I was lost. There was nothing on the platform that helped in any way. No signs. No directions. What the platform had was people, a milling sea of heads and faces, all expectant, all eagerly waiting.

When the door opened, it let in the roar of the crowd outside. Shouts, shrieks and yells. And tears, so many tears. The passengers burst out of the train, throwing themselves into the waiting sea of people. I saw one of the army boys embracing an older gentleman, also dressed in military fatigues. None of that new aged stuff that looked like it was plucked out of a stage of mine craft. This was old school, with big green and brown blotches. The resemblance between the two was clear. They parted, the younger man introducing his father to his compatriot. The older man hugged him as tightly as he had hugged his own son earlier.

The old man that was sitting by me had found an elegant looking lady in her thirties, her light sun dress looked out of place for the biting cold of winter. Or had I mistaken the man for someone else? I looked again and it wasn’t the old man any more, but a young couple laughing in the prime of their lives. No, it was the same coat and his features, lined with a jealous greed scant moments ago, were now lit with a fierce joy.

Just as the train doors hissed shut, I saw the girl that sat next to me on the train. She was in tears with her arms around a well dressed couple. She waved at me as the train pulled out of the station. I waved back.

My legs shook as I got off the train at my stop. The platform was reassuringly deserted. I watched as the train screeched into the distant darkness of the tunnel. I gingerly touched the numb spot on my cheek where the girl had kissed me. My fingers came away wet. I didn’t even remember the tears falling.

My nose was suddenly assaulted by a rich, thick greenhouse scent. Decaying plant matter. I fished out the lily from my coat pocket, where the strange girl had left it. The pristine white petals were dry to the point of crumbling and speckled black with rot. I let it fall from my fingers and watched it bounce on the station floor. I stared at it for a long time before I began the long trek home.

Credits to: straydog1980